


Guess I Will See To It Then, Till The Very End

by writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom



Series: Listen I Just Love This Idiot Ink Boi [15]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: A good Mom Goat, But they do remember some memes, Butterscotch Pie, Even though they're a skeleton, Existential Crisis, Made up sign language, Magic, Major character death - Freeform, Overthinking, Reader does not reincarnate as a Sans, Reader has no memories of Undertale, Reader is asexual, Reader is non-binary, Reincarnation, They don't remember most of their previous life, They haven't learned how to apply intent with will yet, Trust Issues, communication barriers, monster sign language, or hasn't seen it before, temporary mutism, toriel is a good mom, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:08:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26247670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom/pseuds/writingforFUNandbecauseBoredom
Summary: (Edit: Warning: A lot of monologuing in the beginning)A reincarnation story. A story of questioning what is life, and what is death. What does it mean to die? What does it mean to live?Also an experimental writing of a Reader.For the Reader, it all starts with a snail.Chapter 2: Reader makes the decision to see through the life they have as a skeleton now. Also questions what's going on with their magic skeleton physiology.
Relationships: platonic - Relationship
Series: Listen I Just Love This Idiot Ink Boi [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1717414
Comments: 19
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BookwyrmFinallyGotAnAccount](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookwyrmFinallyGotAnAccount/gifts), [KimberlyLikesCherries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KimberlyLikesCherries/gifts), [Vento_Store](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vento_Store/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: Fixed some spelling mistakes~

It all started with a snail.

To be more specific, it all started as a five year old  that witnessed the cracked shell of a dead snail.

Then came the sudden awareness that they exist. That they live. And that just like that snail they will one day die.

More importantly, that was the day their thoughts spiraled and focused on the unpredictability of death. The sun could explode tomorrow, or the day after, without needing the prompt. A meteor could strike at any moment. An epidemic could occur at any moment and take countless lives with it.

Everything that lives shall one way or another taste death. Although they hope for them, it will be as an elderly that lived to two hundred years old, and then passed away from natural causes. Surrounded by loved ones.

And cats.

Except jellyfish are apparently exempt from this cycle of life and death, they learn later on. But you know what? They don't count. They don't even have a brain. They're an alien existence that continue existing, without mind, just drifting in the waters...Okay so they're extremely jealous of jellyfish.

The point is that they've been aware that they' ve alive, and they became aware that those around them, within their age group or otherwise, are perfectly capable of taking a life- just like that kid did with the snail, by stepping on it.

In some ways, this could be considered a blessing, this awareness of their own existence, and thus their own mortality. From then on they began thinking, questioned different religions, and eventually it all led to a conclusion-

They, nor anyone else around them, know what's going on. Ever.

Some of us pretend to know, and then make claims of how death would be so much better than life. Which sounds like an extreme version of pretending to know a country you've never been to before.

What comes after death?

They have their own version of belief on what is on the other side, but they know nothing certain regardless of what they might strongly believe in, or what the other individuals within the same religion as they believe in, as there are multiple ways to interpret the words written in any of the holy books. 

However, they'd like to believe that no matter what you believe in, what circumstances you are born into, and what religion you feel right in, what matters is that you did the best you can, without betraying yourself. And some part of them does genuinely believe that, more than just 'wanting to believe it'.

Because beyond taking a liking to something, it simply feels right to believe it.

Within this constant chaos they walk in, it only feels right to believe that the only way they can be in control of what happens next after they live, depends on how they live, how much they keep themself in check, and how much they can open their heart in acceptance to those around them to the best of their own capabilities.

Just like how the term non-binary feels more right as a label than agender, and how believing in their friends only feels right.

Just like how it feels only right to believe that everyone, everyone that lives here in the present, including the animals and the plants and smaller organisms, have an active role in each others lives no matter what others might say.

One life is priceless. You don't get it back. You can't take it back no matter what. So they have to make it count. they have to see it through.

Death is inevitable, an ever looming presence that they're in no hurry to get to, nor one they can escape.

And it's with this entire thought process that the entire world around them blurs, cars honk, metal screeches...

They fly through the sky and right onto the pavement.

They die with their entire life flashing before their eyes, with a prayer quietly muttered on their lips and a panicking stranger holding their hand. It feels hot, cold and not at all pleasant like naturally passing in their sleep while pleasantly dreaming could have possibly felt like.

They struggle to the very end of course. They struggle to live. To fight till the very end to live. Because there's much they want to do, many more different people they want the chance to meet in this world. They want to hug their parents, or take care of the few responsibilities they have left to do, like giving one last call to their sister, perhaps giving gifts to their neighbors with their mother, having one last chat with their father...

Their belief is that life is a gift given to them, and they're very terrified to forsake it at this moment without giving a fight.

Of course,

It doesn't matter in the end how much they fought for it.

But they at least managed to give a fight.

Because that's the best they could do.

\-------------------

When they wake up, and they don't know when they fell asleep, they stare up at a cavernous hole in the ceiling, and their... face?... gets tickled with flowers. They feel fuzzy, fuzzy in a way that doesn't feel good, like they do when they don't sleep for a whole night even when their eyes are closed. As they stare up at the ceiling, their vision becomes clearer, and they gain back the 180  degrees peripheral of vision. 

The first thing they take note  off is that there are pillars, seemingly supporting the ceiling that isn't covered by the gigantic hole above them. Then, they do a double take, and decide that perhaps rather than supporting the cavern, the pillars were carved out and molded into these shapes. It makes them think of clay, and of artists in modern times who would mold clays, and of ancient civilizations who made their homes beneath the ground. 

Well. They're no geologist so they're not sure if this is ancient.

That train of thought, however, soon gets dashed away once they notice the second thing.

They don't have a nose. Or maybe their nose is just really flat now. Did they lost their nose in the  car accident? Is this what's happening now? Well, that's certainly a shame, they would have liked to keep it. It was a nice nose. And it's always nice to have a sense of smell.....

Wait, no, they can still smell. And breathe through their nose.

And that's the third thing they notice.

They're breathing. The air around them gets sucked in through what feels like a singular hole, and then seems to travel through several other holes...in their head. Experimentally, they stop breathing, and the air seems to continue traveling in and out, wether they have a say in it or not. They can feel the holes in their head, now that they're aware of them. They don't feel like the result of a car accident though, they feel like they're...naturally there.

Then they open their jaw and realize a fourth thing. There is no muscle holding their jaw together. There is the distinct sound of the part where their lower jaw and upper jaw grinds together, and the feeling of it. 

It 's somehow all feels so raw, and louder. There is no flesh to block the sound from outsiders to hear as their teeth clack s back together. Finally, realizing their body is whole, they shakily bring their hands up to the sky.

...

......

.........

............

...............

..................

.....................

........................

...........................Well.

They cannot hide the truth from themselves any longer, no matter how much their mind tends to wander off from one thought to another. 

Their.... they don't have eyeballs, they can't feel their eyeballs...whatever organ they're using for sight travels down, silently takes a look at the red glow emitting from where their rib cage is.

....

They're a skeleton. 

....

A wheeze escapes their mouth, and whatever's glowing in them flutters like it's giggling. They are giggling. Shaking. They died.

Whatever life they had before has ended completely. 

They knew, in that moment...

That they won't get a second chance to see those that were in their life before...

They won't get a second chance to see their sister...

They don't know where they are, but from where they come from, skeletons tend to stay under the ground. Or get displayed in national museums. Or get used for anatomy classes. Or get burned alongside  flash so the loved ones of their previous occupant could spread their ashes somewhere or- or-

Oh. Oh they can't remember if there was anything else that was done with skeletons. Halloween displays? But those are plastic decorations.

Point is.

They're not in Kansas anymore.

\-------------------

It takes a while for them to stop shaking, and making their bones clack together. For them to calm down. There is water...some kind of red liquid leaking out of their eye sockets and staining the ground where they've curled up. They can't make any sound, they don't know how to. They don't want to... not now. They don't want to try and figure out how to talk right now. 

They don't want to move from where they've curled up either actually...

...

No. No they're tired of being like this. They're going to get up now. 

They've died, and they won't ever get to relive their past experiences again. They won't get to travel their previous world. But you know what? You know what? They're alive now. They're alive. They're going to live like it. 

It's not like they hadn't thought about the possibilities of what might happen if they die. They made several promises to themselves before, they remember that. So they're going to get up now and-

"Oh my God GET UP ALREADY CHARA!!!" 

Almost immediately they jolt upward, their spine moving for the first time. They proceed to look around, searching for where the voice came from.

"Down here you naked pervert-Well. Not much to see there to be honest." the voice spoke again, and it's the first time they notice that they're completely naked. Yes, nothing much to see. It doesn't stop them from attempting to cover themselves up with their bare bones, not doing them actual any favors. When the disembodied laughs, they feel their skull... their face warm in embarrassment.

Their hands go up to cover where they assume... they assume their heart is beating. 

"Geez Chara, since when were you such a goofus?" the voice practically giggles. "Eyelights down here!" it then snaps in clear agitation. No. Not agitation...In...impatience perhaps. Boredom. 

The now skeleton turns their...eyelights? They guess?? Down, according to the voice. At first, they see nothing but the flowers.

Then they notice that one of the flowers has a smiling face on it.

"Howdy Chara! I'm so glad to see you're alive and here!"

Chara?

The bizarreness of a talking flower aside, they're not this Chara. That's not their name, they know this much. Their name was-

...

They can't remember what it was.

Suppose it makes sense.

But they know that talking flowers weren't a thing in their previous life. They don't know this person. 

"You have a silly expression on your face!" Expression? They can make expressions despite not having any muscles? 

The flower starts to sway rather...cutely? as they continue to move their mouth, talking in a rather jolly voice. "Oh! Maybe you don't recognize me? Is it because of the RESETs?" what? "Oh, but maybe you will remember..."

Suddenly, the flowers face changes, some sort of goopy texture overtaking the form, melting, reforming and then what looks like a goats face appears. Smiling. Softer. Friendlier.

"It's me!"

"You best friend!"

"Asriel!"

They don't recognize that name either. They think they've stayed here quite long enough, so they stand up, naked or not, and back away from the talking flower, feeling fearful for their own life. 

"Chara?..."

They shake their head rapidly at the confusion they hear in the others voice, trying to convey without words. 

"W-What's wrong-?"

They open their jaw again, and finally they manage to say something.

"That's not my name."

Then they keep moving, moving back towards the cavern, where it leads to another place away from this stranger comparing them to someone else-

Suddenly they feel vines shoot out from beneath their feet, causing their already wobbling structure to  sutmble back down to the ground, right on their sensitive tail bone, making them let out a hiss of pain. 

"Ooooh no no no I know you are them- You can't be anyone else, you-" the  flowers face has gone through a change. It no longer  looked friendly or soft, nor did it look jolly. In fact, it looked like a soulless, fanged creature.

Vampire flower?

They can't speak again, they try, they can't do it. Their voice isn't working like it did just now. Their jaw feels painfully shut tight, like it would take a crowbar to wrench it open. The flower continues to talk. "Your SOUL is Red, Frisk died and didn't Reset again, you can't be anyone else..."

**"Don't try to run away from who you are Chara."**

They shake their head, this time feeling immensely terrified for their life.

"Oh golly Chara your memory must be really messed up! Don't worry! We can just stay here together, you and me, and have nice~"

"Long~"

**"Chat~"**

The vines squeeze their bones tight painfully. Oh God. They were going to die again, and it's going to be in the hands of  psychopath . 

No. No no no no they can't they don't want to die-

Not after being alive now-!

Someone anyone please-

"GAH!!!" suddenly the flower shrieks, and the vines retreat. "Not HER again!!!" Asriel snarls, looking like his petals were burnt. Fire? But where did it-

Another fire ball shoots off from behind them, this time powerful enough to uproot Asriel off from the ground, sending them to the darker parts of the cave.

"What a terrible creature..." a voice speaks softly and they scramble to turn towards the source of the voice, arms covering the red glow of their SOUL as they do so, this time now aware this is more important to protect. 

"Torturing such a poor, innocent youth..." 

...

A goat on two feet, wearing robes stood before them. She had horns, and floppy ears that almost made her look cute...and they would have  find her cute, were it not for the fact she has the ability to shoot fire, and the ability to talk and walk on two feet. Well. Those aren't problematic actually. What's problematic is that they have no idea what this goat will want to do with them.

"Are you alright little one?"

Ah yes, she is quite tall they suppose.

Hm, how to respond to such a question...

Well.

Obviously the best course of action to take in such a situation is to...

Rudely fall unconscious right then and there.

This is too much.


	2. Toriel

There were a number of different things they should possibly be worried about. They think that's the case anyway. However, they can't imagine what they should be worrying over when their entire body is pressed down against something soft by a comfortably heavy blanket draped over them. Their hands twitch, their boney fingers brushing against fabric... wait, since when were their hands boney? They were always rather... thick in structure. Now it feels like they could comfortably put a ring on their fingers. Come to think of it, they feel rather thin all over.

Must be because they are lying down in the hospital for a long time...

...

Why would they need to lie down on a hospital bed? 

Right, car crash, they went through a car crash. Strange, they were sure they would have died in that accident. They had muttered their prayers and everything. Oh, it would be so nice to talk to their parents, though they're sure it would be tedious in nature. Hopefully when they wake up things don't get stressful. 

It was so scary, nearly dying. They think they might get annoyed, hurt and snap if their mother started to scold them for not being careful. They would understand where she's coming from, but they might cry, and they don't want to deal with getting stressed over a talk with their mother when they will probably have to worry about hospital bills...

No.

No, this fantasy has to stop. They know the truth.

With a sigh, and a heavy feeling inside their ribcage, they open their eye sockets to blankly stare at the ceiling.

They have died. There is no going back.

They're not thin because of malnutrition, but because they're a skeleton. The bed they're on... they're not familiar with. Neither were they familiar with the room around them. Experimentally, they shift, and discover that unlike the last time they had woken up as a skeleton, they're able to move now.

Good. They're adapting. That's...good.

It's good that despite not having flesh anymore, they still have that part of being human. The ability to adapt.

All those years of accumulated genetic memory has not gone to waste then....yes, they know genetic memory isn't something proven and that it's just a theory. They like the genetic memory theory though, sue them!

Or don't. They don't think they have any money to use in court. They're sure that the moment they were...reborn? As a skeleton, they had lost whatever pocket money or credit card they had. Seeing as there is no way they know how to access their past life at the current moment, they're pretty sure they can't get in contact with their parents to pay the money for court....

Court...required money...right? Or wait, is that when they're unable to attend court? Was there an amount of money that needs to be paid for the crime of taking a liking to a theory?

They groan, putting both of their palms onto their now closing eye sockets.

...How are they even closing their eye sockets? With their fingers- they mean phalanges! With their phalanges, they start to trace over their face structure...surprisingly, sans the fact that they have...bone lids? Bone eye lids? They have a pretty standard structure of a skull. 

Their bone cheeks felt elevated, and a bit wider though, wide enough that they almost seem to make up for the muscles they had for cheeks. Rather than the expected emptiness, it seems like bones had taken in place of them. 

Through the air going down towards their spine from their head, they take notice of the hole where their spine and head connects...

Come to think of it, now that they apparently don't have any organs, how would they eat? They're not sure if they're the only walking skeleton around, but it seems like they're not an undead, considering that they're feeling pretty hungry right now. 

Where is the hunger coming from though?...

A sudden knock on their door and a soft feminine voice calling out nearly makes them jump and throw themselves to the wall next to the bed in panic. "My child? Are you awake?" 

That voice...right. Goat. Big goat. Big goat that shoots fire and stands on two...not hooves, feet. Or maybe they breathe fire.

Despite their efforts their bones clack together in their nervousness. Trying their best to calm down, they slowly start to make their way out of the bed.

"...I have thought that, considering that you had fainted, perhaps you were exhausted and hungry..." the goat behind the door continues to speak. Meanwhile, carefully making sure their bones don't make too much noise, even though their efforts don't seem to amount to much, they discover that the space under the bed is wide enough for them to hide under. 

At the same time, they take notice that they're wearing robes as clothing. Robes that look similar in design and color to the one they saw the goat wearing before they had passed out.

"...So I've made soup for two! With consideration that you must be very new in that body..."

The goat knew about their situation to some degree then. Or they had made a guess. They don't care, dust mites be damned, they're going to be hiding under the bed. Yes, the classic monster under the bed trick! Except you're not supposed to be aware of there being a monster to begin with!

"....But I've realized that liquids may be too tricky for you to digest at the moment as well!"

Quickly, doing their best to make as little noise as possible while the robe scrapes against their bare joints, they tuck themselves underneath the bed frame. Reflexively, they also attempt to stifle their breathing, before realizing that they don't actually need to breathe.

So they stay quite. There is something thumping in their ribcage, blaring loudly to their hearing, and only amplifying the tenseness of the situation for them. Their hands press flately against the wood surface, unmoving, and the their spine presses against the wooden bedframe above them.

"And because it was so late by the time I've realized the issue, I decided to give you a slice of my ready made Butterscotch pie-" the sound of the door opening with a creak is loud in the silence outside of their ribcage, and the illumination of light, with a shadow of a humanoid shape with small horns on it, casts down on the area besides the bed, in front of their vision. "Oh!" the voice comes out, surprised no doubt at their sudden disappearance.

Momentary silence, as they see fur covered, clawed feet take steps in front of them.

"My child..." the goat's voice comes out, sounding solemn. Then a sigh. "I understand that you're very scared, and thus naturally very cautious... but I want you to know that you're safe here." the feet move past the bed, and the sound of porcelain thunking against wood, with brief metallic scratching noises and clinking reaches them.

Then, the feet come back into view, the end of their dark blue robes shuffling as they seem to take a look around the room. "The door is never locked, and I won't force you to stay here...And there would be plenty of those beyond these **Ruins** who would be willing to help you. However, as you are quite the new Monster here in the Underground, know that I'm willing to teach you about our culture and history to the best of my abilities." 

Silence takes over. They continue to hide under the bed.

With another solemn sigh, the Goat Monster, whose species they're now aware of, moves back towards the door. "I will be leaving the door a little open..."

The sound of a door creaking fills the air again, but right before the Goat Monster's shadow completely disappears, they pause.

"Ah, I have forgotten to introduce myself!" the shadow shifts. "My name is **Toriel**. I am the **Keeper of the Ruins**."

"I have left the Butterscotch pie for you on the desk. Should you decide to ask questions to me...I will be in the living room. It's down the right hallway."

Then, the door closes, with a slight opening that lets a sliver of light in, and the shadow completely disappears.

...

\-------------------------

They spend five minutes more under there, thinking, mulling over desicions, before a growl resonates from somewhere within them. The red light within their ribcage glows brighter, enough to go through the robes they're wearing.

With a sigh of their own, they push with their palms and knees, minding their skull as they get out from under the bed. They shiver, feeling grime and dust stick to the joints of their phalanges-

Wait they don't have skin anymore. They're pretty sure skin is a requirement for the sense of touch, and they have none of that.

Then again, they somehow feel hunger as well...

Just as they're thinking their...not nose, nasal hole? Catches a scent wafting through the room. A sweet scent, like that of caramel. They turn towards the smell, their backs to the slightly ajar door to the desk where they immediately spot the pie Toriel had left.

The growl intensifies almost tenfold, and there is a slight lightheadedness within their skull. Their bones are shaking, the joints between them starting to fizzle with the same red glow from inside their rib cage. 

Is this the skeleton version of a hunger? This red glow... what does it mean?...

No. No matter, they could mull over information they've acquired so far after they've put food in them. Perhaps they should be cautious, but considering that Toriel could have easily poisoned them, or kill them while they were unconscious, they doubt the goat would do anything weird to a Butterscotch pie. Right? Right.

Either they possibly die by hunger, or they possibly die from eating this. Either road leads to death, and their chances look better eating this pie.

They walk over towards the desk, the dark blue robe with a strange rune on it bunching up beneath them with each step, for it has been tailored too long for their stature. They take the plate and the fork placed alongside the slice of pie in it, before sitting down right on the floor, the joints on their legs being on the fritz with the red glow, making it hard and strenuous to stand.

_It feels like nearly dying all over again._

They practically stab through the pie with their shaking hands, it's filling soft like butter and it's crust crumbling away, and without thinking too much, they shove the piece in between their teeth.

Almost instantaneously, something strange happens. The red glow suddenly dims...and the food in their mouth suddenly dissolves, without leaving a taste.

They blink several times at this phenomena that just happened.

...

Know what? What's important is that they can eat. They can question whatever happened to their physiology later.

\-------------------------

After the slice of pie is finished, feeling a lot fuller, they continue to sit on the floor, examining as the red glow dims in the dark room they're in.

And then, they think.

What they have gathered so far, is that they're part of a species called Monsters now. They have a culture. For whatever reason, they are under the ground, a suspicion that was confirmed by Toriel. Toriel is the keeper of the Ruins, the Ruins being either the entire underground itself, or just a part of it. Considering that Toriel has mentioned that there are monsters _beyond_ the Ruins, it's safe to say that the latter is most likely true.

How big is the underground? Can they truly trust Toriel? 

How much choice do they truly have?

Who is Chara that...the talking flower Asriel had mentioned?

Who are they now?

They don't remember their first name. When they try to grasp at their last name, their family name, it constantly slips away. They remember the personality of their parents, but they can't remember who their mother was, or who their father was. Their head hurts everytime they try to go past the blur that blocks their faces. Same goes for their sister. When did they die? They only remember the car crash vividly. 

Did they have friends? They have a feeling they did, but....but they can't grasp at their images, can't distinguish them from mere shadowy blobs.

Buildings... they remember they lived somewhere with concrete buildings...asphalt where cars go on and...light...some sort of multi colored lights that made signals for cars to...to...

What were they called? What color were they even? What color meant what for cars?

What...what did they do? Did they have a job? Or were they too young for it? What was the age limit for a job? They can't remember.

So many bits and pieces scrapped through. Even their own death is threatening to slip through their grasp, leaving them even more confused.

Only one thing remains certain for them, then.

...

They want to continue forward.

Even as a skeleton, or whatever other species they are reborn as, one part of them that can never change is their will to live through life.

They want to walk.

They want to see more of this world they're in, if nothing else.

There is no point in searching for a way back.

This life given them... this life that may as well be their second gift. They want to go through with it. 

They want to see to it, till the very end.

With that in mind, they make a decision, and get up from the floor, the dirty dishes in hand.

And they leave the room.


	3. Do you think in Sounds, Pictures, Memories or all three of them?

They go down the hallway, only interrupted when they briefly glance at a staircase leading down towards somewhere. In a quick minute or two, they are standing in front of the opening leading to the living room.

A fire place made of stone...it doesn't seem safe to light up fire in a cave. Then again, they have taken notice of how the air circulates here, and all things considered, Toriel possibly could make special kinds of flames specifically for places where air did not circulate.

 _Magic_ , they think to themselves, and with that, they feel their ribs heave, feel the source of that now hidden red glow rumble with something that's not hunger. Air gets pushed out from their teeth with an exhale. Magic. Perhaps it was a type of magic. Perhaps magic had a different term it was going by, here in this world.

Their sight travels away from the fireplace.

Toriel herself, is sitting on a couch near the fireplace, reading a book that had the title ‘Beginner Monster Language’. On a wooden folding desk, was placed several other books that seem to be more advanced in this ‘Monster Language’. Do they all share one language then? They're not sure if there is something wrong with that. They think...they think it might say something about culture? Why would a number of languages say something about culture? 

Ah, yes, a testament to exactly how small or big the Underground really is perhaps, compared to the world on the surface...The surface that they don't know of. Compared to the world they knew then.

"Ah, hello my child." Toriel speaks, putting a thin piece of paper into the book, before bringing folding it close "How was the pie?" 

The way she sounds eager for an opinion, perhaps slightly nervous for it even, reminded them of the times they and their family had hosted people- _No, no just answer the question_.

With a resounding click, and the sound of bone scrapping against bone, making them feel rather weird, their lower jaw lowers open and...

Right, they forgot, they can't speak.

"Ah, perhaps we should test your writing first then! Please, take a seat at the table. I will bring you a piece of paper and a pencil..." Toriel speaks as she puts the book she's reading on the desk besides her before getting up from the couch, walking out of the living room towards the other side of the hallway. 

_Pretty eager, isn't she?_

While she's out getting writing materials, they decided to do as instructed, walking over to the table and placing the empty dishes they don't know what to do it. Then, as they are taking their seat they, get again, become aware of their skeletal state. 

Sparing you the details, dear Reader, they fidget, doing their best to find a comfortable position, and then finding themselves wanting to move around more than sit still. 

...It seems their tailbone is...slightly more elongated.

Did humans have a tail...? They think humans did have some sort of tail, though... it wasn't visible was it? The tail they have would break through skin...

"I'm back my child!" Toriel's voice comes just as they manage to finally settle down, leaning the upper half of their body on the table, crossing their arms, their tail bone being relieved from pressure with this new position. "Hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long..." 

It wasn't quite long, or perhaps it was? They're not sure. Their sense of time may be a bit skewed. What time was it before? What time is it now? Is there a way to tell time Underground?

Perhaps there is a method, a way to it. People have been living down here for a long time now after all, enough that they have a culture, so they must have developed a means of keeping track of time. But, biologically speaking, what if a Monster's sleep cycle is different than that of a human? 

Now that they think about it, there are different kinds of monsters as well, aren't there? At least that's what they have understood. Toriel is a goat monster(if that's the correct term), they're a skeleton monster and Flowey... Flowey could be considered a plant based monster...

Their thoughts get interrupted as Toriel places several pieces of paper, and a pencil in front of them. _Charcoal, wood, there seems to be a lot of wood down here, wood is needed for paper as well....right?_

"Now, let's restart our introductions, shall we?" Toriel begins, and then speaks. "I am Toriel, Keeper of the Ruins, and a silly old woman that lives alone." Ah, that takes care of figuring out her actual gender. "What of you my child? Can you write your name?"

Name. A place. 

They pick up the pencil and begin writing down...

...

"...Perhaps...english isn't the language you speak?..." Toriel speaks, looking entirely lost. They too, feel lost as they stare at what they've written down. 

It's wasn't this...'english' language. That's for sure. When they were writing, it looked like it made sense, but now... it's a mess of different letters put together. Still, they can understand what they've written down.

"Well, it's partially english... but there is another language mixed in." 

On the paper, written was...

_ I do_'t r_hatir m_la em mı yor er_ na ad me ım _

It made zero sense.

"Let's try separating the words then..." Toriel squints at the paper, clearly trying to understand. They felt bad now. They attempt to write again.

_ B meN bd il o mi not yorum _

It's even more unintelligible than before. Toriel starts to speak again "Perhaps we should..."

But then they're already trying to write again.

And again.

And again.

And

Again.

They're not sure how much time has passed, but they at this point Toriel was quiet, looking at them with pity in her eyes as she leaned on the table. They feel frustrated by their lack of progress. They should be- They should be better than this-

_You can do better than this-_

Before they could try writing down again, furry hands hold their boney hands in a firm grip. "That's enough." Toriel's voice comes through, firm.

"I can see already that you seem to have high expectations of yourself, but we can leave writing for later." 

A breathe is pushed out from all the openings in their skeletal body, like an heavy exhale. With how wet it comes through, they realize they're close to crying. 

"Now, as I was saying." Toriel speaks again, this time relaxing her grip into something softer, cupping her hands and holding their wrists. "I knew a few friends from long ago, who had gone through the same situation as you are now, although perhaps not as extreme. When they first started writing, they ended up writing out directly as how they hear in their thoughts. It ended up taking relearning how to write and speak for them..."

She then lets them go, pulling out a book with the title 'A Guide To Monster Sign Language'. "For now, let's try learning MSL, alright? We can take our time for the rest, and perhaps find out what other languages you know. With time!" 

Their bones ceasing their rattling, feeling like a weight was lifted off of them, they sigh and then nod. 

Right. They're not sure why they were being stubborn earlier but... there was nothing indicating that they should be in a hurry to be somewhere. 

But...

"Don't...wun..frget.." a voice comes out from them. It feels painful, now that they recognize it. Fearful, too intense with emotions. 

"...I cannot dictate wether or not that's the correct way to handle this. However, I can say that learning new experiences doesn't necessarily mean you will forget your past experiences." She tells them softly. 

"It simply means you add onto them."

The fire crackles, casting a dim ember hue across the dark wooden interior of the house. They grip her hands back, wanting to ground themselves into the moment, into where they are now. 

They hope she's right.

"Now, I think we should take a break. Wash your face, perhaps you could even help me with the dishes... or we could take a stroll outside the house together. It would be good to introduce you to the people that live around, here in the ruins." Speaks again, smiling at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma go actually study sign language now-

**Author's Note:**

> <https://www.nationalgeographic.com/news/2015/03/150325-underground-city-cappadocia-turkey-archaeology/>
> 
> Note:
> 
> Reader has no past recollection of playing Undertale.


End file.
